


Present Tense

by NeverMessWithTeddyBears



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9050788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverMessWithTeddyBears/pseuds/NeverMessWithTeddyBears
Summary: Deep inside he always wondered if Rose was truly happy, and now he got confirmation.





	

**Present Tense**

* * *

 

He doesn't know how he got here. Really, he doesn't; he's spent the last half hour locked up in the TARDIS trying to figure out how the hell he was there – in a bloody parallel universe – without the TARDIS breaking down or the fabric of reality tearing at the seams.

The one thing he knew, though, was that the old girl always brought him exactly where he needed to be and maybe he needed to be here. The _why_ was still a mistery to him, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it; and maybe he wouldn't even need to get to it.

He walked down the streets of parallel London with a watchful eye, always on the lookout for danger. Problems seemed to follow him wherever he went and he wanted to be prepared in case something happened.

A few minutes later, though, he catches a glipse of familiar blonde hair with the corner of his eye. He almost doesn't turn his head, but curiosity – and hope, the foolish thing he couldn't get rid of even if he tried - gets the best of him and he gives in.

He turns around and there she is; all pink and yellow with her hair tied up in a ponytail, a child in her arms and laughter leaving her lips and he realises that he never knew how much he missed that sound. How much he missed _her_.

"Rose Tyler.", her name rolls off his tongue with ease and is no louder than a whisper.

He goes to walk towards Rose, her name already ready to leave his lips in a shout when he stops in his tracks as he sees another man approach her. In him, he recognises his past self and as the meta-crisis him lifts takes the small child from Rose's arms with the biggest smile on his face, he feels his chest tighten. He likes to believe it's happpiness; all he ever wanted for Rose was to be happy, and she clearly is – but he also feels a bit of regret, because that could've been him there, with her, and not a meta-crisis. She promised him forever and God knows she would have given it to him, if the universe allowed it. And even if it didn't, the Doctor knows that he would break time and space and dimensions and _everything_ to be with her again – just like she would for him.

But she needed someone who could grow old with her. She _deserved_ someone who could say the words that needed to be said but he was too much of a coward to let them out of his mouth. She loved him – and she probably loves him still, in a way – and he loves her – _oh_ , how he loves her, present tense, _always_ – but he doesn't deserve her; he could live a thousand lives and not deserve her, so he gave her someone who maybe has to live just _one_ life to deserve the unconditional love she gives him, and as he's looking at them now he can see how happy they are and he knows he's made the right choice.

They have a child, a life, and although he would love nothing more than to go over to her and just _talk_ to her - do _something_ \- he knows that that probably wouldn't be the right thing to do.

A realisation comes to him at that point; the thought that maybe the TARDIS _did_ bring him where he needed to be, because deep inside he always wondered if Rose was truly happy, and now he got confirmation.

He turns around, heading back down the path where he cae from, back to the TARDIS, when he almost misses the faint sound of someone calling his name.

"Doctor? _Doctor_!", her voice sends shivers down his spine because he hasn't heard it in so _so_ long and, _oh_ , has he missed it – has he missed _her_. But, he doesn't turn around. He just takes a moment to clear his head and compose himself, before he continues walking.

He doesn't look back because he knows that, if he did, he would never be able to look away again.

**Author's Note:**

> Written Christmas 2014. For Sophie (@mctshphg).


End file.
